Handicapped in Hawai'i

One

December, 1993

        Hilo, Hawai'i

Stepping into the Arrivals section of Hilo International Airport was almost like walking through a Portal from a place of Darknessta a place of pure Light for thirty-Year-old bassist, Rob Bobby Dall. Even with his eighteen-month-old daughter riding on his back–which threw off his balance a bit since he was forced to walk on his hands–he didn't feel nearly as weighed-down as he'd felt for months, if not Years. He felt like a boulder the size of his tour bus'd just been lifted off his chest, like he could finally breathe again after too long with insufficient Air.

        Twenty-three-Year-old Richie Kotzen felt the same way as he walked on his hands next to him, maybe more so. After all, he'd been at the heart of the situation that'd somewhat literally torn their band to shreds only two weeks ago. He was even more ready to hide out somewhere with a view that couldn't be beaten by anything else, and nobody who knew the Truth could blame him in the slightest.

        Both men were followed by a pair of women–sisters Kailani Dall and Leilani Ikaika–as well as the three-Year-old son of Rob and Kailani. Lil Zep contently sucked his thumb as he clutched his mother's hand, his eyes darting all over the place as he looked at everything with the interest only a young child could cook up. However, the women were just as relieved to finally be in Hilo as their men were, and neither of them tried to hide that immense relief.

        Like the young virtuoso, Leilani was at the heart of the event that'd ripped hair metal extraordinaire Poison to shreds even worse than firing lead guitarist CC DeVille a couple Years ago'd done. She was more than a lil pissed that her boyfriend had been continuously accused of having an affair with his drummer's fiancé, but she was even more pissed about what'd abruptly Ended their most recent tour. Then again, it was understandable to be pissed at having a romp Ended by a drunken, drug-addled musician who prolly couldn't tell his dick from his big toe anymore. His Intentions mighta been Noble, but in the End, his actions'd essentially murdered his band in cold blood, for lack of a better way to put it.

        "Thank the Gods all our cars made it here safely last week," Rob sighed as they headed toward baggage claim.

        "Fuckin' seriously," the younger brunette agreed.

        "Go ahead and take the kids out so ya can get them strapped in," his wife told them. "We'll deal with collecting our luggage and bringing it out to be loaded up."

        "Sounds like a plan to me, ku'u lei," the bassist agreed.

        Kailani knelt down long enough to give him a quick kiss, her sister following suit with her own man.

        "C'mon, Zep," Richie said. "It'll be tough, butcha riding on my back'll get us outta here quicker."

        "Me can walk!" the lil boy insisted. "Too heavy for chu to carry!"

        "Long as he holds on to one of our braids, he'll be fine," his daddy chuckled. "He'll rip our hair out trying not to lose his grip, if someone triesta take off with him before he'll let himself get lost or taken."

        "If you're sure, man," he said uncertainly.

        "Kai's trained him to hang on to her belt loops when he insists on walking," Rob explained. "Since we don't exactly have belt loops–at least, not where he won't pants us–we trained him to hang on to my hair when he's with me."

        "Then grab my braid, kiddo," the younger brunette sighed.

        Zep giggled as he did as told, his grip just far enough away from his skull to avoid pulling his head back, but close enough for him to make no mistake as to whether he still had a good grip or not.